


from first until forever

by teacass (Fushigi)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Dean/Cas Tropefest 5k Mid-Winter Challenge, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Professor Castiel, Professor Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 21:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10544700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fushigi/pseuds/teacass
Summary: Dean and Cas became best friends during their first year at Hogwarts and not much has changed since then -- except maybe for the fact that now they are here to teach instead of study, and Dean's feelings are much more complicated than they used to be.Or five times Dean couldn't get what he wanted (and one time Cas gave it to him).





	

**Author's Note:**

> It took me FOREVER to decide what subjects everyone would teach -- and even longer to sort them into Houses. So many possibilities! Also, I think I could write about this universe until my last day on Earth and never get bored.
> 
> Biggest thanks to Lauren for beta-reading and the mods for running such a fun challenge!

Dean realised he was in love with his best friend on September 1st, right before the start-of-term feast, and it was both the most and the least surprising thing to happen in his life.

It didn’t happen when he first saw Cas after the summer break, stopping by his office to check on him and drag him to the Great Hall. Castiel was, of course, still too immersed in unpacking to even remember to eat. Dean spent a moment staring at him through the office door, smiling to himself as Cas caressed the covers of his beloved books. When he finally made his presence known, Cas spun around in alarm, but then melted into a warm smile and left his books to give Dean a welcoming hug.

The hug felt amazing, and Dean’s heart continued to beat too fast for a moment longer, but he still didn’t understand. After all, he had always felt this way when Cas hugged him, hadn’t he?

It didn’t happen when Cas spent way too much time talking with his friend Hannah, the Divination teacher, after they finally reached the staff table. Nor when Mick, the Arithmancy teacher, kept flirting with Cas as they waited for the first-year students to arrive. Dean could feel his mood turn sour but he blamed it on being hungry and bored.

No — apparently, the touch and the jealousy alone were not able to help Dean realise that the way he felt for his friend of over 15 years was far, far from platonic. 

But then the first-years finally arrived and Jo opened the sorting ceremony. Dean took one look at the frightened kids in front of him and laughed, remembering his own first Great Feast. Castiel had been right beside him even back then, eyes big and awed, and he had smiled at Dean when Professor Singer, the Deputy Headmaster at that time, had called out his name. Cas had been proclaimed a Ravenclaw and Dean’s heart had sank a little — he had known there was no chance he could ever become a Ravenclaw himself. But the very same evening, after Dean had stuffed himself stupid with all the food he could find at the Gryffindor table, Cas had been waiting for him in the Entrance Hall to wish him good night and to promise to see him the next day at breakfast.

He still continued to do that through all these long years.

Dean glanced at Cas and caught him smiling at the first-year girl who had just been sorted into Ravenclaw. The next boy ended up in Gryffindor and Dean whistled loudly, earning himself a grin from Cas.

It all became a blur soon after that — Professor Harvelle made her opening speech, they all ate and drank and shared stories and news, and then it was time for bed. Dean stalled a little, watching the students crowd near the entrance, the head boys and head girls yelling over the first-years’ heads. They had been head boys once, Dean and Cas. They had had way too much fun, patrolling the corridors at night and giving detentions. Well, Dean usually gave detentions, Cas just reprimanded. There was also that one time in the prefects’ bathroom on the fifth floor…

“Dean?”

Dean’s thoughts screeched to a halt and he stopped when he noticed Cas standing in the Entrance Hall.

“Oh, hi,” Dean said, coming over. “What’s up, Cas? Forget something?”

Castiel blinked at him owlishly. “No. I was just waiting for you. To wish you good night,” he said plainly. “And see you tomorrow at breakfast.”

And then, between one breath and another, between thinking of himself and Cas at the age of 15 trying out all kinds of bubbles in the prefects’ bathroom and staring at Cas’ pretty blue eyes and strong jaw, Dean realised that he was madly, hopelessly in love with his best friend and that he never, _ever_ wanted to let him out of his sight again.

“...Gryffindor wins 270 to 210!” 

Dean zoomed to the ground and hopped off his broom, beaming up at the Gryffindor team as they made their way down to the pitch. 

“Great job, guys! Krissy, especially you! What a catch!” Dean shouted over their excited chattering. Then, remembering his duties as an impartial referee, he turned to the Ravenclaw team and sent them an encouraging smile. “Beautiful game, everyone. Better luck next time, I guess?”

“Yeah, first get rid of Alfie,” Gordon mocked, his bat swung carelessly over his broad shoulder. “Honestly, I’ve never seen a worse keeper.”

Before Dean could even open his mouth to comment (Gordon had never been his favourite, despite being a Gryffindor), Cas appeared at his right side and sent Gordon a cold look.

“I don’t know, mister Walker. He managed to save most of your team’s goals _and_ avoided every Bludger you sent towards him. How many was that? I counted at least two, what about you, Professor?” 

It took Dean a second to realise Cas was talking to him and even longer to find his voice to answer. He had always liked when Cas called him that, and it happened so rarely that he cherished every time the words ‘Professor Winchester’ left Cas’ pretty mouth.

Yeah, he could admit it now. Cas had a very, very pretty mouth and he wanted it on his, preferably very soon.

“Three Bludgers,” he said, finally. “They weren’t really precise, though.”

Gordon glowered at them, turned on his heel, and walked away. Dean watched him throw his bat to the ground. He felt Cas staring at him even before he said anything.

“Congratulations,” Cas said with a warm smile. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the Gryffindor team was trained not by their captain, but by one of the best Quidditch players I know.”

“I—” Dean spluttered, feeling his face going as red as the robes the Gryffindor team were wearing. “What?”

“But I know it’s not possible,” Cas continued, as if not hearing him, a spark in his eye that made Dean’s insides buzz with excitement. “It would be really unfair, wouldn’t it?”

“Cas, I swear I haven’t been training them,” Dean said. “They’re just really good.”

“Oh, but I meant Jo,” Cas said.

Dean frowned. “Oh. Yeah. Right.”

Cas bit his lip. “She’s a really good flier, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Dean said. “Haven’t seen her fly for a while, actually, she’s always so busy with her head of house duties and all that—”

Cas’ face split in a grin. Dean gasped and jabbed him in the chest with his finger. “You _did_ mean me, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did, Dean,” Cas laughed. “How could I not? You taught me how to fly, and now I’m _almost_ better than Gordon.”

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “Dude, you’re such a jerk. Sometimes I can’t believe you’re my friend.”

“Well, the feeling is mutual,” Cas said, and he was still smiling, but when Dean caught his eye again, there was something warm and fond in the way he was looking at him. It made Dean’s skin tingle. 

“Anyway,” Dean said after a moment of silent staring. It was normal for them, but suddenly Dean was finding it much harder, what with the way Cas stood close to him and gazed at him with those big baby blues of his. Not to mention his lips. “Your team did great, too, Professor.”

Cas smiled as if he enjoyed Dean calling him that just as much as Dean liked hearing it from him. Or maybe he was just proud of his team.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“So, listen,” Dean said, slowly, and then threw all caution to the wind and wrapped an arm around Cas’ shoulders. He’d been doing that since they were kids, so it felt natural, but also new in the way Dean’s skin prickled when he felt Cas’ warmth. “I’ve got a bottle of Firewhiskey in my office. Care to join the celebration?”

Cas smiled, but it was rueful this time. Dean’s stomach twisted unpleasantly. 

“I’d love to, but I’ve got essays to mark,” Cas said. “A lot of them.”

“Ah, okay,” Dean said and stepped away, his arms falling to hang at his sides. “Raincheck?”

“Of course.” Castiel smiled. “Enjoy your Saturday, Dean.”

“Yeah,” Dean murmured, watching Cas’ broad back as he walked away from him. “You too.”

On Halloween, Dean found Cas in the library. Obviously.

“Hey, nerd,” he murmured, lips dangerously close to Castiel’s ear as he leaned over him from behind, hands braced on the desk Cas was sitting at. To his utmost delight, Cas shivered, his head turning back so quickly that for a deliciously long moment their faces were just inches apart.

“Dean,” Cas breathed, a frown appearing on his face even while his eyes stayed ridiculously wide and blue. “You scared me.”

“Good.” Dean shrugged, stepping away and leaning with his ass on the edge of the table. He distractedly browsed through the papers and books laid out in front of Cas. “It’s Halloween.”

“I’m aware,” Cas said. He snatched one of the essays from Dean’s hands and tucked it safely into his blue-and-brown folder. He had always liked folders, the dork. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“But it’s _Halloween_ ,” Dean repeated.

“I _know_.” Cas looked up at him with a glare. In the dim light of the library, his eyes looked almost black. “But these won’t mark themselves.”

“Cas, you can’t work tonight,” Dean whined. “The feast starts in a few minutes. There’ll be pumpkin pies!”

“You can go, I’m not keeping you here,” Cas said, focusing back on the paper in front of him.

“You’re no fun.”

“And you’re distracting me,” Cas said, and looked up once more. Dean grinned at him stupidly and watched as Cas’ lips twitched, too. 

“Who, me?” Dean asked innocently, sliding closer to Cas. Their thighs were almost touching, their gazes locked. “Impossible.”

“Dean,” Cas said, and Dean grinned again when he heard his rough voice. “Either stop bothering me or go away, please. It’s late.”

“Exactly,” Dean said. He had a sudden impulse to card his fingers through Castiel’s mess of hair. He raised his hand without thinking but then changed his mind at the last moment and chose to poke Cas on the nose instead. Cas made a funny face, eyes crossing to look at Dean’s finger, and Dean snorted. “Come on, man. Don’t make me beg.”

Cas’ eyes flickered up to Dean’s face again, his face blank. “I know you like it.”

Dean let his hand fall to his side, face hot all of a sudden. “Yeah, right. Pff. What gave you the idea—”

“Professor Novak?”

Cas was clearly about to say something, but they both turned towards the Slytherin girl, standing a few feet from them. Dean hadn’t even heard her approach.

“Yes, Claire?” Of course Cas knew her name, the perfect teacher that he was. Dean had probably taught the girl flying in her first year too, but he had never been good with names. 

“Professor Ketch needs you in his office,” Claire said. 

“Oh?” Castiel tilted his head curiously. “Did he say what for?”

Claire made a face. “No, but I know anyway. Some idiots were caught duelling in the fourth-floor corridor. A Slytherin and a Ravenclaw,” she explained.

Cas sighed heavily, his hand coming up to rub at his face. “Of course. I presume Professor Ketch wants to discuss their detention with me.”

Claire shrugged, sent them a wry smile, and turned on her heel. Dean was about to make a snarky comment about all Slytherins — he _was_ a Gryffindor, after all — when Cas stood up with another prolonged sigh.

“Where are you going?”

Cas frowned at him. “Arthur’s office, of course. Claire has just—”

“Yeah, I know what she said,” Dean said, suddenly annoyed with the way Cas pronounced the Potions teacher’s name. It was a stupid name. “But I thought _you_ said you had a lot to do?”

Cas rolled his eyes and quickly rearranged the papers on the table Dean was still sitting on. “I do have a lot to do, Dean, but this is important. I’m a Head of House and this involves one of my students.”

“Oh, so it’s okay to go all the way to the dungeons to meet _Arthur_ , but going to a feast with me is suddenly too much?” Dean pouted.

“I will be coming back here to continue marking the essays, Dean,” Cas said harshly. “It’s only going to take a few minutes.”

“Yeah, right,” Dean scoffed. “So would the feast.”

“You know it’s not true,” Cas muttered. “You’d want to try everything on the table, and talk to everyone, including all of the ghosts—”

“It’s _Halloween_!”

“—and then we’d end up in your room drinking Firewhiskey till four in the morning and I’d fall asleep on your couch and tomorrow would be horrible and you’d regret it.”

_No, I wouldn’t_ , Dean thought, staring at Cas’ messy hair and thinking of all the other times Cas had slept on his couch (or in his dormitory) in the past. He had never regretted it so far.

“Maybe we wouldn’t,” Dean said quietly. “I just want pie.”

Cas heaved a sigh and looked up from his folder. “Not tonight, Dean.”

Dean made an angry sound deep in his throat and pushed himself off the table, ready to leave. “Enjoy your date with Ketch,” he scoffed, feeling silly and angry at the same time.

He managed to take exactly one step when Cas’ fingers closed over his arm.

“Dean, I’m sorry.”

“Whatever.”

“Here.” Cas’ strong hand turned him back to face him again. “I forgot I had something for you.” He pushed a box of Fudge Flies, Dean’s favourites, into Dean’s hands, and smiled warmly. “I got them for you when I ordered Chocolate Frogs from Honeydukes last time. I thought they’d be perfect for a situation like this.”

Dean glared down at the box in his hand, but couldn’t help the small smile that forced itself onto his lips. “I still hate you,” he muttered sulkily.

Cas’ only answer was a low chuckle.

Cas’ eyes looked great when he had his Ravenclaw scarf wrapped around his neck.

Dean’s thoughts kept running away from him, unfinished, every time Cas turned to look at him and Dean caught a glimpse of those eyes. He had to ask Cas to repeat his question at least two times and almost lost his footing at least three — he’d land with his face in the snow if it weren’t for Cas’ strong hand on his arm, there to catch him at the last moment. But if Cas noticed anything, he didn’t mention it all the way to Hogsmeade.

“How are classes?” Dean asked to distract Cas from noticing how awkwardly he was behaving. “Kids giving you a hard time?”

“No more than usual,” Cas said. They both had to raise their voices to be able to hear anything through the nasty wind blowing in their faces. It was cold, too, and Dean regretted not taking his gloves, or his hat, and he wished they would reach the Three Broomsticks already. Or that he could hold Cas’ hand and stop his fingers from freezing off.

He realised Cas was still talking when he snuck another look at him, all bundled up in his scarf and a wooly hat.

“...and we’ve just covered boggarts with the third-years,” Cas said, smiling to himself.

“Oh, yeah? Was it fun?”

“Very. They never cease to surprise me. Their ideas to disarm the boggart were simply marvellous. I wish you could have seen some of them… Dean, careful!”

They had reached Hogsmeade and Dean, too busy staring at Cas, almost bumped into an elderly witch in front of them. Cas reached out, caught his hand, and tugged him backwards before Dean could make a fool of himself yet again.

“Watch your step, boy,” the witch muttered at him and disappeared behind the corner of the nearest building. 

Dean scoffed to cover his embarrassment. “She came out of nowhere, I swear.”

“Of course,” Cas said, smiling, and Dean felt his fingers squeezing his hand. They were warm, and Dean yearned to get a hold of his other hand. And maybe bury his face in Cas’ scarf and kiss him senseless, too. “Come on, we’re almost there,” Cas said, saving Dean from his dangerous thoughts and letting go of his hand.

It shouldn’t have been so surprising, in that weather, but Dean still felt cheated when they entered the Three Broomsticks only to discover there were no free tables. 

“Are you kidding me,” Dean moaned, looking over the crowds of students, teachers, and villagers, all warming by the fire and drinking Butterbeer. “What are we gonna do now? I didn’t come all this way just to freeze my ass off on the street.”

“Maybe we can find another place,” Cas said, put a hand on Dean’s shoulder, and steered him out of the inn.

“Yeah, where?” Dean groused. “I’m not going all the way to Hog’s Head, thank you very much.”

“No,” Castiel said casually, “Madam Puddifoot’s.”

Dean would have stopped dead in his track if it weren’t for Cas’ hand still heavy on his shoulder. “We’re not going _there_. It’s a _teashop_.”

“So what? I’m pretty sure they also serve coffee.”

“But it’s so… _frilly_ ,” Dean whined.

“I think it’s cosy.”

“But…”

“Dean.” Cas stopped and turned to face Dean, a serious expression on his face. “It’s either Madam Puddifoot, Hog’s Head, or back to the castle. Your choice.”

Dean felt a blush crawl up to his face. “But… this is where you’d take someone out on a date, not to… drink beer… with a… a friend…”

Cas raised an eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed. Then he said, “I don’t mind,” and turned to trudge up the street towards the teashop.

He probably meant that he didn’t mind being surrounded by couples, but Dean’s treacherous mind interpreted it as though Cas would gladly go on a date with Dean. Which was untrue. And simply not possible.

If he did spend the entire afternoon feeling his insides slowly turn to jelly, watching Cas over the rim of his coffee cup as he talked and smiled and joked, imagining what it would be like to really go out with Cas — well, no one needed to know.

“I did _not_.”

“Yeah, you did,” Dean sniggered, only to be hushed by Cas’ hand over his mouth. He shook it off with a giggle. “You totally did.”

“Well, I don’t remember it,” Cas said stubbornly.

“That doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.” They slowly made their way down the corridor, past the statue of Boris the Bewildered, their drunken steps loud in the quiet of the pre-Christmas castle. Most of the students had gone back home for the holidays and Dean had discovered he still had the bottle of Firewhiskey in his cupboard. Somehow they ended up roaming the empty halls under the guise of checking whether all of the remaining students were in bed and not up and about — but in fact being noisy and ridiculous and really fucking handsy with each other.

“I _didn’t dream_ about Michael,” Cas repeated with a stupid smile on his perfect face. Dean bumped into him with his shoulder, sending him stumbling towards the nearest wall. “Stop it!”

“You _did_ , you told me about it one time in fifth year,” Dean said. “You had a sex dream about your teacher and you can’t deny it.”

Cas scowled at him. “I told you I don’t remember it.” They tumbled through some door and Dean caught Cas under his arm and dragged him down the hall, ignoring Cas’ weak protests. “I remember I had a dream about you, once, though.”

Dean’s head whipped towards him. “You did _what_?”

“Yeah, when we were sixteen or something,” Cas said, all smug, as if he hadn’t just admitted to dreaming about Dean as a teenager. “You were wearing pink lingerie.”

“I— what?! You never told me that!”

“I didn’t want to embarrass you,” Cas drawled with a lazy grin.

“Yeah, right,” Dean muttered, face flushed. “ _You_ were embarrassed.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Oh yeah, I bet you were. Having this kind of thoughts about your best friend? Must’ve been awkward. And pink lingerie, Cas, really…”

“I _know_ you own pink lingerie, Dean,” Cas deadpanned.

Dean spluttered and stepped away from Cas, face aflame and eyes wide. He saw Cas smirk and immediately decided trying to deny it would be counterproductive. 

“How?” he asked, earning himself a grin from Cas.

“I’ve been in your bedroom far too often,” Cas said casually, sending Dean a self-satisfied smile. “And you weren’t as discreet as you thought you were.”

“Allright, whatever,” Dean mumbled and turned away from him, “mister I-had-a-crush-on-Michael.”

Castiel appeared by his side and shrugged. “So did you.”

Dean didn’t really have an answer to that, so he decided to let it slide for now and ignore Cas’ smug smirk. Instead, he looked up at the door in front of them, murmured ‘pine-fresh,’ and grinned when he heard Cas’ loud gasp.

“Dean, are we…” Speechless, Cas sent Dean an incredulous look and boldly stepped inside the prefects’ bathroom, Dean at his heels.

“I’ve remembered about this place recently,” he said with a giggle. “It was the only thing worth being a prefect for.”

“Not the only thing,” Cas murmured distractedly, already kneeling down by the golden taps surrounding the huge rectangular pool in the middle of the room and turning a few of them on. The air was immediately filled with the sweet scents of different kinds of bubbles and foam. “But it’s been a while since I was here last.” 

“Shame,” Dean said and kicked off his shoes. “I’m here at least a few times a month.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got a fetish,” Cas said.

Dean stalked closer, scooped some foam on his hand, and threw it on Cas’ head. “No, I don’t.”

Cas’ undignified yelp would have probably been heard in the whole castle if it weren’t for the buzz of the water filling the pool. He stood up quickly, his hands full of pink and blue bubbles, and shoved them into Dean’s face.

“Oh, it’s on,” Dean mumbled, spitting out the foam, and pushed Cas into the pool, still in all his clothes and shoes, and then, without thinking, quickly jumped in right after him.

Claw-like fingers dug into his arms as Cas clung to him, trying to drag him underwater and get his revenge. Dean kicked frantically and tried to get away, but Cas was surprisingly strong. They fought for a while, Cas’ eyes almost turquoise in the purple-coloured water, his grip on Dean’s body firm and sure. They came up to catch their breath, Cas’ wet hair falling into his eyes and Dean’s mouth tasting like bubble gum foam.

“Let’s—” Dean started, but Cas splashed at him and laughed out loud when Dean got water in his eyes. “Oh, shit. Shit, it stings.”

Dean covered his face with his palms and within a few seconds Cas was all over him, his fingers prying Dean’s hands away, his face concerned. This was what Dean had been waiting for — he put his hands on Cas’ shoulders and pushed him underwater again, mindless of his indignant yell.

And then, suddenly, all the air was punched out of his chest. Cas’ body shoved against his and he ended up with his back pinned to the wall of the pool, unable to move or free himself. Cas swam up, slowly, eyes sparkling and trained on Dean’s face, purple droplets clinging to his eyelashes, mouth parted.

“Uh, hi,” Dean managed, throat tight and heartbeat frantic.

He felt one of Cas’ hands land on his hip and he gulped. Cas brushed his dark hair off his forehead, gaze still not leaving Dean’s eyes. He kicked his legs in the water and their chests collided, faces closer than ever.

Dean panicked.

Cas was clearly not ready for Dean to splash him with foamy water yet again, and he spluttered and swam away, cursing under his breath. Dean took his chance and scrambled out of the pool, clumsy and shivering. 

“Sorry,” he muttered without meeting Cas’ eyes. “Got dizzy. I think the whiskey is finally getting to me,” he laughed.

Cas didn’t say anything, just came out of the pool, dripping wet and yet still managing to look gorgeous. Dean threw a towel at him and soon started chattering about Christmas and the feast and whatever the hell came to his mind. By the time they left the bathroom and made their way through the empty halls towards the Ravenclaw tower, Cas was again talking to him as if nothing happened, and Dean _almost_ managed to persuade himself he was happy that he didn’t kiss Cas stupid in that pool _after all_ — he would never want to risk their friendship and make Cas angry, would he?

Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten so much.

The Christmas dinner at Hogwarts was grandiose — with the tables almost breaking beneath all of the food prepared by the elves, huge pine trees adorning the Great Hall, holly and mistletoe hanging from every corner, the suits of armour blasting Christmas carols at every passerby. As a kid, Dean had fallen in love with Christmas at the castle and had been staying over for the holidays ever since. He would get together with his brother Sam before New Year’s, when the nerd actually had the time to leave the Ministry for a while, but Christmas day had to be spent with his teacher friends.

Also, Cas was always here, too.

Dean had had enough eggnog to make his head a little groggy and his smile lazy, so when Professor Harvelle announced it was time for bed and sent all the students away to their dormitories, Dean decided to get some rest as well.

He couldn’t leave before all his friends had repeated “Merry Christmas” like a thousand times, however, so when he finally stumbled out of the Great Hall, it was with an even heavier head and lead-like limbs.

He didn’t even have the energy to be surprised when he met Cas in the Entrance Hall, casually leaning against the staircase, waiting for him.

“Aw,” Dean mumbled and grinned. “You’re foolproof, professor Novak.”

Cas smiled at him and strolled over, eyes clear and blue. 

“I just wanted to—”

“Wish me good night,” Dean finished. He felt as if his heart had grown twice its size in his chest at the sight of his best friend. “I know, Cas. You do it every night.”

Dean could swear he saw a faint blush on Castiel’s cheeks. “Well, it’s Christmas, too, so I also wanted to say merry Christmas,” Cas said, sheepish.

Dean could melt on the spot, seeing Cas’ warm smile. Instead, his body decided to surge forward, without preamble, and catch Cas in a hug. 

“Thanks,” Dean murmured into Cas’ neck. 

He felt Cas’ arms slowly come up and hug him back and for a moment they both relaxed against each other. Cas smelled like cinnamon candles and cranberries.

“Merry Christmas to you too, Cas,” Dean said, turned his head, and kissed Cas’ cheek.

Then he froze.

“Uh.” He stepped back, face hot and eyes wide. Cas looked at him and Dean noticed his lips were parted in surprise. He didn’t look angry, though. “Uh. Sorry about that. I didn’t—”

Cas blinked at him, stepped closer again, and, hands braced on Dean’s arms, dropped a kiss on Dean’s cheek. 

“Sweet dreams, Dean,” he murmured as he pulled away.

Dean was sure his heartbeat was loud enough to be heard even back in the Great Hall. Cas still had his hands on Dean’s arms, their gazes locked. Dean thought about the previous night in the prefects’ bathroom — about how badly he wanted to kiss Cas — and then about every other moment he had spent in Cas’ presence since the beginning of the school year, fingers itching to touch and pull closer.

Cas had never moved away from him, not for all the years they’d known each other, not even yesterday. And now he was staring up at Dean as if he never wanted to look at anything else.

And then, in the same Entrance Hall where they had always hugged and said their good nights, Dean reached out for Cas’ hand and slowly twined their fingers together, just like he had always wanted to do.

“Hey, Cas?”

Cas’ eyes were bright and smiling. “Yes, Dean?”

“Will you go out with me?”

Instead of answering, Cas beamed, surged forward, and kissed him straight on the lips. Dean laughed and pulled him closer, arms coming up and around his waist, mouths hot and impatient, tongues quick. Cas mumbled something and Dean needed a moment to even realise it.

“What?” he whispered, pulling away.

Cas grinned at him. “We’re going to Madam Puddifoot’s.”

Dean laughed too hard to even try to object.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm also on [twitter](https://twitter.com/teacass) and [tumblr](http://teacass.tumblr.com/). And [here](https://pl.pinterest.com/fuszigi/fic-spn-hogwarts/) you'll find adorable reference pictures and fanart I stared a lot at when writing this story.
> 
> Don't forget to check out other works in this challenge!


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